Does The End Define Horror?

Posted on October 23, 2018 by Annie Neugebauer

Do horror stories have to have happy or tragic endings to “count” as horror? Is a positive or negative ending more effective across the board? Is there room for taste in this question?

Several years ago I came across the YouTube video “Why Horror Is Good for Us” by T. Michael Martin, and I’ve had it saved in my “ideas” file for blog posts ever since. There’s so much to love about this video. It’s only two minutes long; I highly recommend watching it. I think my favorite quote from it is, “Horror is the genre of non-denial.” Martin argues that the best horror is that in which good ultimately triumphs—a concept he calls dark transcendence. He talks about how being dragged through the dark heightens the redemptive endings. I agree with much of what Martin has to say here, but I never blogged about it because I couldn’t articulate the parts that I didn’t quite agree with.

Today I came across this post in ‘The H Word’ column in Nightmare Magazine: “The Politics of Horror” by Paul Tremblay, and it felt like the missing half of that long-ago saved video. Despite the title, Tremblay only skirts politics in this post, and instead focuses on an equally interesting concept: the endings of scary stories. But in this take, we’re presented with an opposite opinion: “The horror story that ultimately ends with a triumphant return of the status quo isn’t doing its job.” Again, there’s much here I absolutely love and agree with, but also some I can’t entirely agree with.

What “counts” in any genre is a topic that comes up a lot, so much so that it’s one of the very first things I address in my Horror Genre infographic for LitReactor. (And I hammer home right away that taste and value judgements have nothing to do with defining genre.) To be fair to both creators linked to above, neither of them claims definition—only taste. Martin doesn’t claim that dark endings don’t count as horror, only that when scary stories aren’t redemptive the “critics kind of have a point.” And Tremblay says, “This isn’t to say every horror story must have a downbeat/bummer ending to be successful. But it should have an ending that’s honest to its horror, honest to the transgression committed within the story.” So I appreciate that they each tip their hat to the existence of the other side.

Yet, they both make excellent points and come down strong about which stories—which endings to horror stories—hold the most inherent value. And of course, they land on polar opposite sides.

What do I think? I think they’re both right, because they’re really both talking about their own taste, and you can’t argue with taste. If Martin is in it for the uplift—for the power created in stories where good triumphs over literal evil—then of course he prefers transcendence. And if Tremblay is in it for the scary impression—for the lingering fear created by an ending where everything is definitely not okay—then of course he prefers subversion. So neither is wrong, only opinionated. 😉

Of course, I have opinions of my own. To be honest, I love both types of endings. For me personally, an uplifting ending doesn’t automatically negate the fear in the rest of the story. When done well, these stories can be incredibly powerful. I will agree, however, that it’s harder to pull off a redemptive ending and maintain the fear—harder but not impossible. But I don’t need a happily ever after, either. I’m fine with walking away from a story scared instead of uplifted, if it’s done well. Often I prefer it.

I judge endings on a case-by-case basis, in reading, watching, and in writing. How effective each type is depends entirely on intent and execution. And although not nearly as popular, I’m also a big fan of the blurry middle ground, where some redemption has been had but much darkness still looms and lingers, reminding us that although this character may have gotten away safe, we might not.

So does the ending define horror? Absolutely not. I’ll argue that point until I’m blue in the face. (Some very famous folks have made the claim, but fame doesn’t preclude rightness, eh?) Does the ending change the nature of a story? Sometimes. Maybe not as often as we think, which is a point Tremblay brings up in his example endings. (Come to think of it, I can’t even remember the technical endings of half the horror stories I love. Hmmm… it’s almost like the ending isn’t the most important part.) Does the ending land differently for different readers? Absolutely. That’s at the heart of why we each love our own favorite books, isn’t it? Everyone wants different things from story, and every story will disappoint or satisfy accordingly.

So how about you? Are you a proponent of dark transcendence, like Martin? Do you find dark progression more effective, like Tremblay? Or are you a case-by-case consumer, like me?

Guess what? I have one final update for #BooksBrewBoo! I’ve accepted a super sweet offer to partner with USB Memory Direct for some promotional goodies—these amazing custom thumb drives!

I’m really excited to get these little beauties. So excited that I’m going to load three of them with The Organized Writer docs and freebies and add them to the prizes! Any writers who win one of the three giveaway prizes will also have the option to receive one of these. It’ll include the Writing Income and Expense Tracking Spreadsheet, which normally costs $9 and is a super handy financial tool for writers. Score!

And as if this expanded prize package wasn’t enough—we’re up to three winners for a total of two paperbacks, one ebook, a Starbucks gift card, and three thumb drives pre-loaded with the spreadsheet—if you want a chance to win some of your own cool custom thumb drives you can head on over to USB Memory Direct’s October spook-tacular giveaway for an Halloween-inspired gift box featuring a 32 GB Ubie Ninja flash drive and plenty of treats (and maybe a few tricks, too). They’re also giving five lucky winners a 64 GB drive as a special treat, so be sure to enter before it’s too late!

This blog post right here is the last one of this month that are eligible for #BooksBrewBoo entries; just leave a comment below to be entered. And to up your chances, leave comments on my past three blogs too:

And to really up your chances, share the giveaway on Twitter, Facebook, and/or Instagram using the hashtag #BooksBrewBoo and tagging me so I see it. You can enter a total of 13 times!

Best of luck, my spooky friends. The winners will be announced on Halloween, which is just around the corner!

Share this:
Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail
Posted in Horror | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Remakes, Re-reads, Re-watches, and the Power of Ritual

Posted on October 15, 2018 by Annie Neugebauer

Remakes are coming. Still. More. Lots of them. The Haunting of Hill House on Netflix, Pet Sematary, It Chapter 2, and Halloween to the big screen. The excitement. The outcries.

And here I am not caring a whole lot either way, but re-reading ‘Salem’s Lot for the first time since it seared itself into my psyche when I was a young teenager. (I’ll probably see two of the four listed above; wanna guess which two?)

Re-watching movies is so ubiquitous that we don’t actually call it re-watching—just watching. “I’m going to watch Hocus Pocus today.” Whereas we usually say re-reading when we’ve already read the book. (See above.) That’s pretty interesting to me, the cultural medium difference between books and screens.

But, really, why do we re-consume books, shows, and movies at all? We already know what’s going to happen, right?

My theory is that we don’t actually read or watch stories because we want to know what happens. Maybe a little, maybe that first time, but mostly we consume story because it makes us feel things. Wonder, fear, love, longing, excitement, dread, joy. It entertains us, but the really good ones, the stories we come back to over and over again, make us feel.

That’s why I re-read books, at least, or watch a movie I’ve already seen. I don’t remember exactly what happens or how it’s said or what it looks like—not all of it—but I do remember exactly how it made me feel. I don’t remember the character names in ‘Salem’s Lot or quite how the protagonist ends up, but I do remember staying awake one night afraid to turn off my lamp because the passage about the little boy walking past the abandoned church had reached something deep, deep in my fear and lit me up. So when I want to be scared, why not reach for the book I already know scares me?

Some of my favorite re-reads.

Stories and their specifics are easily forgotten, but the feelings they cause often linger. So re-reading or re-watching is almost a cheat; we get to enjoy the story pre-vetted by someone with our exact tastes (us). We know we’ll like it. And we get to experience those feelings all over again, often as fresh as the first time even after the story itself grows stale.

I think this is why so many people are anti-remake. Remakes do the opposite of what we seek by re-watching; they retain the plot while changing the feelings. But it was never the plot we cared about, only how that rendition of it made us feel. Plots are easy to copy; feelings are hard to reproduce. That’s why so many remakes are unsuccessful to original fans. The ones that do pull it off usually do so not by recreating that perfect feeling, but by creating a totally new one that also appeals, or by creating the same feeling in a totally different way.

That’s why It didn’t work for me, and why re-reading ‘Salem’s Lot is just as thrilling now as it was when I was a kid.

So where does that put those stories we come to over and over and over? How about the people who watch The Nightmare Before Christmas every single October? How about how I’ve read my copies of the Anita Blake books so many times the spines are turning white? When does the re-watch or re-read become ritual?

I think it comes down to which stories are strong enough to gain power vs. which simply wear down with revisiting. Perhaps a story is good, and makes you feel a way you enjoy, and you read or watch it again. Does it still make you feel that way? You try it again. If, over time, the feeling lessens, it becomes not a ritual but a thing you’ve worn out—a perfume bottle you’ve emptied, with only whiffs of the original stuff left. But if it retains the intensity each time, or perhaps even deepens with more understanding of the work, it becomes ritual. It grows stronger with repetition, and so that repetition becomes valuable in and of itself.

That’s my theory anyway. As I re-read ‘Salem’s Lot I’m not just reminiscing; I’m feeling again what I felt then, but stronger, more complicated, more developed. I’m appreciating the book even more, because my experiences since that first read have only deepened my ability to react to this particular story. I can’t say the story itself doesn’t matter, because obviously it’s the catalyst that makes us feel the way we feel, but it isn’t the story itself that draws me back; it’s the way that story makes me feel. Thrilled and dreadfully nervous and scared and wide awake.

Speaking of stories that keep you up at night, have you entered my giveaway yet? #BooksBrewBoo is going on through October 30, and the prizes include two very creepy books and a Starbucks giftcard—at least. In fact, if we get even 10 more entries, I’m going to add a third winner. And there might be a few surprises around the corner. 😉 You want warm sweet treats and spooky story tricks, yes?

Good! To enter, you can comment on any and all of my blogs this month (including this one, Celebrating National Dark Poetry Day with Light and Liquor, and Books Brew Boo 2 so far, with a fourth to come next week), or share the giveaway (or any of my work) on Twitter, Facebook, and/or Instagram. The full rules are here, but basically: tag me and include the hashtag. You can enter up to 13 times total! The more you enter, the better your shot at winning. And the more people enter, the more prizes I’ll include, so please help me spread the word! I’m dying to share my creepy books with you. ♥

What are your favorite go-to books, shows, and movies for re-consumption? Why (and when) do you re-visit them? And when do you think it crosses the line into ritual?

Share this:
Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail
Posted in Books | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Celebrating National Dark Poetry Day with Light and Liquor

Posted on October 7, 2018 by Annie Neugebauer

Happy (first ever!) National Dark Poetry Day! HWA Poetry Showcase founder Peter Adam Salomon has created a day to celebrate Edgar Allan Poe (who died this day 169 years ago) and horror poetry. He says, “In dark poetry we share in the ancient knowledge that the darkest of poetry shines a light on the greatest truth.” The talented Cat Scully has done artwork for the occasion, to the right, and is even selling T-shirts. I don’t have to tell y’all how much I love Poe, horror, or poetry; you know this is right up my alley. (Check my t-shirt in the video!)

So today, to celebrate this brand new holiday, I’m sharing a reading of one of my own dark poems. (This comes as a very belated answer to a request for this poem–sorry Ashley!) As  mention below, my Spoon River poem “Light and Liquor” was in the first volume of the HWA Poetry Showcase. It was also just recently reprinted in Apex Publications’ Undead: A Poetry Anthology of Ghouls, Ghosts, and More. (The text of the poem is under the video in case you’d like to read and/or read along.)

Light and Liquor

By the time I’d make it to the mine,
well before the sun rose every morning,
I was tired and thirsty.
I worked all day like the devil sat
right here on my shoulder,
and sunlight was gone by the time
I came out of that Hell.
I used to tell my wife, “Honey,
when I die, don’t bury me.
Place me above ground
so I can finally see the light.”
I thought she knew I meant it.

By the time I’d get home each night,
the only thing that could cut
the film of mine-water from my tongue
was a sharp, cold quaff of liquor.
After two or three, I’d lean back,
cross my coal-stained hands on my belly,
and say, “Honey, when I die,
stash a little bottle in there with me,
won’t you?” I thought she knew
I wasn’t kidding.

Lungs and liver failed at once,
put me out of my misery…
but now I’m down here in this hole,
alone, buried in darkness—
just like when I was alive—
and the wood sags with moisture
and things worm through damp dirt
and water drips on my shriveled skin,
and damn, but I’m thirsty.

If you’re interested in some more dark poetry to celebrate the day (or the month… or any time, really)? The Horror Writers Association has released its’ fifth annual volume of the Poetry Showcase in time for Halloween! It debuted as the #1 New Release in Poetry Anthologies, and is still sitting in the top 10. I’m so honored to be included in this for the fifth year running, this time with my poem “Thirst.” The opening line of my poem: “I want thirst.”

OR you can enter Books Brew Boo as many times as possible to increase your odds… and encourage all of your friends to enter to increase the odds that I’ll add an extra prize… and cross your fingers tight in hopes that the giveaway takes off and you win the bonus prize. 😉

Speaking of the giveaway taking off: I need your help! I want to share my scary books (trick) and a Starbucks giftcard (treat)—but I need you to enter! Everyone is welcome! All you have to do is share the giveaway or ANY of my content (blogs, poems, stories—whatever you like!) on Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram using the hashtag #BooksBrewBoo–and/or comment on any of my blog posts this month (including this one). That’s it! Comment and share. (For fine details, check out the rules.) The more you share, the more likely you are to win. And the more people you get to share, the more likely it is that I’ll add in an extra prize—and the more likely you are to win! So share away, and spread the love of scary books.

Happy National Dark Poetry Day, my little goblins and spooklings!

Share this:
Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail
Posted in My Works | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Books Brew Boo 2!

Posted on October 1, 2018 by Annie Neugebauer

Happy October! The season is finally well and truly upon us. Let the spooks begin! (Did anyone else hear evil laughter echo in the background? Weird.)

Per my annual tradition, which started out as a way to celebrate All Hallow’s Read, I’m going to be giving away some treats to good little children readers. This year, I’ll be giving out prizes to a first AND second place winner. First place winner will receive a spooky book and a Starbucks gift card to get a tasty drink. Second place winner will receive a spooky book. (Both paperbacks.) Win, win!

Every year Starbucks comes out with some gimmicky, fun Halloween drink, and I am all about it. Of course, the winner can use their gift card on any type of Starbucks goody they’d like, but you’re probably going to want something warm and comforting to sip on while you read. This year I’m giving away one copy each of two books I have stories in! First place winner will get first choice between Tales from the Shadow Booth Volume 1, which has my story “That Which Never Comes,” and Suspended in Dusk 2, which has my story “Dealing in Shadows.” Not sure how to decide? How about an excerpt from each to get a little taste?

“That Which Never Comes” (from Tales from the Shadow Booth Volume 1)

At fourteen, Daniel was much too old to be afraid at night. That made it worse. No one close to him had ever really said anything overt or teased him—he had nice parents and good friends—but he still felt their silent assessment and the less-silent assessment of kids who weren’t his friends. He was generally a wuss. Adding in a fear of the dark would ruin him.

It was in the closet, whatever it was. It was alive, but not breathing. Unspeaking, but audible. Invisible in the darkness of his bedroom, but absolutely present. Daniel couldn’t help but wonder if there was some seed of truth to all the monster-in-the-closet stories. Was it coincidence, or had people’s lizard brains been on to something from long since before he was born? It didn’t matter. It was in his closet now.

It hadn’t woken him. He hadn’t been asleep. He’d been lying in bed thinking about Todd Okiro at gym. The utter lack of light in his room usually helped him sleep, but when he couldn’t sleep, it helped him dream.

It had started as a faint click, like the sound of two plastic coat hangers tapping together. Click, click, click. The air conditioning wasn’t on, though. It was still spring enough to feel cool at nights. So how had the hangers clicked? The slow slide of gravity finally shifting a shirt, maybe, or a fly hitting a wrinkle just so on its path through the air, or maybe even a distant vibration snaking imperceptibly through the house, up the wall, and through the wooden rod the hangers rested on, moving them ever so slightly from beneath.

Daniel’s eyes were open wide, staring into the darkness above his face, imagining the fine crack in the ceiling though he couldn’t see it—couldn’t even see the color white floating there above him.

Click, click, click.

Or a long fingernail tapping the painted shell of his hollow closet door.

Silly. Kid stuff. Still, his blind gaze slid to where he knew the door to be, shut tight in its jamb. There was room in his closet for a man to hide. Or something else.

Silence then, as if it knew he’d heard it—as if it knew exactly when to bide its time.

Daniel stared so hard into the darkness where his door should be that shapes began to shift inside it, his eyes projecting motion he couldn’t possibly see, even if it were there. Was it possible that some other sense picked up movement and told his eyes to make up impressions to match it? Could he hear something? Would he hear anything at all if the doorknob should turn ever so slowly, slower even than five deep breaths, until the metal tongue was fully out of the way and the door could be pushed forward from the inside, easy, the gap below it just tall enough to keep the bottom of the wood from brushing the carpet fibers, the hinges just well-oiled enough to withhold all protest, and would he hear it if the knob was gently released, again slowly, so slowly that he would almost fall back asleep before it was done, so that the knob was still and the door fully ajar so whatever waited inside it could come out?

And did Daniel sense these things, or did he imagine them?

His pulse jerked through his body in constant, violent cycles, trying to convince him to pant, but Daniel forced his breaths to be slow and low and deep. Even so, he could barely hear beyond his own body—or maybe his own body was the only sound left in the room.

If the closet door were open, would it come out? Had it?

The muscles where his jaw met his temples ached from straining his ears, as if they were exterior muscles he could flex to listen better.

Something shifted. Low, against the carpet.

Not a step, exactly. Certainly not a man walking, but not a shuffle, either. Not a drag. What then?

Almost imperceptible, but distinct. Definitely real. Not his imagination.

“Dealing in Shadows” (from Suspended in Dusk 2)

 The shadows below seem to hold their breath at my approach. I always seek them out—something to do with grief, maybe. My sadness draws me to dark corners? I don’t know why exactly, but ever since I started noticing shadows, they seem more and more alive to me, as if they’re only waiting for me to walk by so they can let out their breaths.

“Where are you going now?” Charlene’s voice whines in my ear like a moped. I’d almost forgotten she was on the line.

I fidget with my necklace, wanting to finish the conversation so I can go down into the metro without losing cell reception. “Home. I’m exhausted.”

“Are they still overworking you? I thought you said you’d talk to them about cutting back your hours.”

“I was going to, but then two of the new nurses left. I can’t just leave them high and dry.”

Charlene huffs. I picture her pressing the phone between her ear and shoulder as she picks at her nails. “So you’re not coming out with us?”

“No, I’m going home.”

I brace for her rebuke, but she sighs and says, “That sounds good. I kind of wish I was too.”

“Then go,” I say absently, eyeing a deep shadow at the bottom of the stairs. It almost looks like something is moving in the pit of it. “You’re not obligated to go out with them.”

“Yeah. But I hate my apartment. You’re so lucky to have your own place, Eva. How many twenty-six-year-olds own a house in the city?”

My face suddenly feels hot. “I think I hear my train. Gotta go.” I hang up without waiting for a reply, but it’s either that or explode at my best friend. I know she didn’t mean anything by the comment. Her life still bustles with dates and drinks and one-liners, like it should. Like mine used to. I can’t expect her to understand.

I tuck my phone back into my purse and descend into the griminess of the metro. I try to ignore the shadows as I pass.

You’re so lucky, she said. Lucky to have my own place. In a way, on a logical level, I know she’s right. But the problem with that statement is that to get so “lucky,” my dad had to die last year. I can only afford my house due to the inheritance.

My train pulls up to the stop, and I slip through the doors. The metro is almost deserted, which isn’t too unusual this time of night. The car I sit in is empty.

I lean my head back and close my eyes, trying to let go of all the worries I carry home from the hospital. Since I’m a physician’s assistant in the hospital’s psych ward, I deal with many disturbed and disturbing patients. There is one man in particular—Jerry—who came in today claiming he’d forgotten just one person. How he knows he’d forgotten the person, we still can’t figure out.

I shake my head. No work outside of work. But without the distraction, I’m left with thoughts that circle like vultures. Charlene’s comment bites at me. Am I lucky? Is a house, some furniture, and financial stability worth the death of my dad?

I squeeze my eyes tighter as the train rocks me from side to side, an oversized bassinet making its way through the dark tunnels. The mechanical sounds of the inner-workings of the engine are sterile and familiar. My chest feels tight.

It’s not worth it, I vow. I miss him so much. I would give it all back just to see Dad one last time. Everything.

A soft scuff draws my eyes open. I look down my nose at the deep shadow under the seat across from me, where the lights of the train can’t penetrate. Detecting a small rectangle, I lean forward and pick it up.

It’s a slip of black construction paper about the size of a large match box. I hold it up to the light and angle it to read the words scrawled in pencil: Shadow People. That’s all it says.

Praise for “That Which Never Comes”

from Blair Rose at Learn This Phrase:

“Unusually powerful and—I want to say elegiac; there is something so melancholy and, yes, haunting about this. It follows Daniel from his teens to the age of 93 as he is intermittently menaced by an inexplicable, unseen presence. I suppose it’s a story with a moral, when you think about it, but not even a bit as sanctimonious as that sounds. Instead, it’s moving and elegant.”

Praise for “Dealing in Shadows”

from Gracie Kat at Sci-Fi & Scary:

“There was one in particular, Dealing in Shadows by Annie Neugebauer, that hit me very hard and everything about it was just so well done. […] (thank you for tearing my heart out of my chest and stomping on it, by the way)”

from Tracy Robinson:

“This short story by Annie Neugebauer boasts a slow, dread kind of horror while tackling the question ‘how far would you go for someone you love?’ It’s a beautiful tale. Scary and heartbreaking.”

from Frank Michaels Errington at Horrible Book Reviews:

“Quite an imaginative tale of bereavement and the shadow people. Another high note in a strong anthology.”

Both of these anthologies are dark and horror-leaning, but thoughtful and literary. (Don’t let the centipede fool you.) And both of my stories in them are deep, meaningful, and creepy. And of course with each you get many more stories by tons of talented authors!

SO.

Coffee and a spooky book, you want this, yes? Good. You can enter up to 13 times! (Lucky!) The winners will be randomly chosen from all entries, so the more you enter the better your chances. Eligible entry methods include:

  • Commenting on any/each of my 4 October blog posts right here at AnnieNeugebauer.com (including this one!), 1 per post. All commenters will be automatically entered unless requested otherwise.
  • Tweeting to share any of my promotional links this month—up to 4 tweets. To have your tweet counted, please include the hashtag #BooksBrewBoo . (You’re welcome to retweet my tweets–please do!–but to count as an entry you must tweet directly from your account. It’s also a good idea to tag me to be sure I see it.)
  • Posting on Instagram to share any of my promotional material this month—up to 4 posts. To have your share counted, please include the hashtag #BooksBrewBoo . (Update: posts to you feed OR your stories will count; be sure you tag me so I see it.)
  • Posting on Facebook to share any of my promotional links this month—1 post. To have your share counted, please include the hashtag #BooksBrewBoo . (It’s also a good idea to set the privacy of the post to ‘public’ and tag me to be sure I see it.)

Please help me out by making your sharing/posts interesting and/or useful! In other words, don’t just tweet the hashtag 4 times in a row and call it a day. Spread them out, say something about the giveaway, link to my blog or my work. Send people my way to join in. You get the idea. If you’d like an image to share, feel free to grab one or more from this post! If we get lots of entries, I just might throw in an extra surprise or two.  😈

Regarding postage: I don’t want to limit this to US only, but I also can’t afford to pay $64 in shipping. Let’s say that if I can get the book to you for $15 or less, you’re eligible. BUT, I will send an ebook and/or Starbucks e-giftcard to any winner(s) too far away for shipping, so everyone can still play! All entries must be made by 11:59 CST on October 30, so I can announce the winner on Halloween!

Best of luck to everyone! Have fun! And don’t forget to hit me up in the comments with any questions and/or content requests for the rest of my blogs this month. ♥

Share this:
Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail
Posted in Updates & Announcements | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Gathering Milestones in my Pockets (and on my Shelves and at my Blog and…)

Posted on September 24, 2018 by Annie Neugebauer

Before I get into my talk about milestones, I have a fun surprise: there’s a new album up at The Decorative Writer! This time my bestie Kelsey Macke is sharing her ah-mazing home office with us. This suite is spacious, colorful, organized, inspiring, AND it has every reader’s dream: a hidey-hole!!! I’ve spent my share of snuggly nights in that book nook planning, working, dreaming, and giggling, and I can vouch that it’s a truly magical place.

So definitely head over to Kelsey’s album and click through her pictures. (Read her captions to catch special notes and details.) And if you enjoy the snooping, leave her a comment to let her know! And if you can’t get enough snooping, check out the rest of the albums at The Decorative Writer for more beautiful, unique writers’ spaces of all stripes.

Okay, onto today’s topic: celebrating milestones. I’ve had several really cool ones gather up lately, so I felt like sharing them here. (And I will.) But, as is often the case, I find myself struggling to share them in a way that doesn’t feel like bragging. No one likes a bragger. But then another part of me is annoyed at my hesitancy—which is certainly tied to the requisite humility all women are trained to put first—and I think I should share things with no caveat. And then I remember that I’ve already vowed to stop apologizing for sharing my successes. (And I also remember sharing some of the negatives, too, so at least I’m not painting a false picture that everything is kittens and rainbows.) So, okay, now that I’ve pseudo-caveated by talking myself out of caveating, let’s celebrate!

The bookshelf where I display my contributor copies (which, ironically, I’ve seen other authors call their “brag shelf”) is finally totally full. As in can’t-squeeze-in-one-more-copy full. That’s really freaking cool! I insist on keeping one or two front-facing spaces for displaying my latest publications, and one of those I’ve bumped onto a stack of spiral-bound books (which don’t stand well). Even so, I’ve had to squeeze in my little copy of Shadow Booth up top, which I’m not crazy about.

I can procrastinate a bit more by taking away the front-facing display on the right and lining up more books spine-out, but I really want more time to appreciate each new book before the next one hides it from me. And lately they’ve been coming one on top of the other, which is awesome, but means I really want to hang onto my two spots (at least). So!

Time

for

a

new

shelf!

Whaaaat? Seriously, such a cool problem to have! But I am kind of stumped on how/where to put this additional display. The shelf pictured is actually just the top of our entertainment stand; the TV is below it. I like my books there because they’re out in the main part of the house instead of tucked away in my office, but I think adding floating shelves to that wall might look odd. And as much as I dislike that TV stand, an entirely new one isn’t quite in the budget. Any bright ideas on what to do? Cute shelving solutions you’ve seen? Votes?

Really, it’s amazing to think back to how my brag shelf has grown. It used to be a single magazine on the coffee table. Then it became a small stack on a side table. Then it became a tiny little row sandwiched between book ends on a low shelf. Then it grew to a mostly-empty version of the shelf up top where it is now. And now that whole shelf is packed full, and if I’ve ever needed tactile, visual proof of how hard I’ve worked and how much I’ve grown, here it is. 🙂

Another milestone that has me geeking out is this:

My name on the cover! Okay, I’ve definitely had my name on several really great covers before now. BUT. This is the first time I’ve had my name written out on a cover that had the option of shoehorning me in with “and many more.” There is nothing wrong with being one of “many more.” But it’s kind of funny. In fact one of my favorite tweets uses it:

I’ve long been “and many more,” so it’s really freaking fun to not be this time. Even knowing that there are probably many more “and many mores” in my future—really fun. So there’s a happy dance.

Haunted are These Houses, the relevant cover, is a gothic anthology of stories and poems, fresh out. You can order it in ebook or paperback now. It has my short story “The Call of the House of Usher” reprinted in it, which is my homage to Poe. One reviewer once called it “the most elegantly crafted story I’ve ever read,” which is definitely one of my favorite compliments ever! I’m honored to be along side many authors I admire, including Poe himself and some other classics.

When I get my contributor copy of Haunted are These Houses, it will also serve as another new milestone for me: it will be the first time I have a single story in four different physical books! “The Call of the House of Usher” was first published in The Spirit of Poe, a charity anthology to help save the Poe house in Baltimore. Then it was reprinted in Killing it Softly, an all-women horror anthology. Then it was reprinted in a hardback edition of Killing it Softly because the book did so well. And now it’s reprinted in Haunted are These Houses, so I’ll have the same story on my shelf four times, which speaks highly of this story. It’s always good to feel you’ve done Papa Poe proud. <3

And last but certainly not least, the latest milestone I’m tucking under my belt: I’ve been invited to submit a story to a literary magazine I love. This is my first direct solicitation, and I can’t tell you how flattering it feels. Someone out there read and liked my work so much they sought me out for more. I’m not crying; you’re crying. I’ll tell you more about this if/when I can, but the invitation alone feels like joy worth sharing.

Okay, those are all the milestones I have to share for today, but before I send you to my “what you might have missed” wrap-up, a quick call for input. October is juuuuust around the corner–insert all of the Halloween emojis here–and I’m busy planning my tricks and treats. I’ll be flitting around the interwebs sharing strange and spooky things, but I also plan to do a blog series here, which will include a book giveaway or two, per my tradition.

What I want to hear from you, dear readers, is how you’d like this to shake down. Do you have any requests? Things you’d like to hear more about, topics you want covered, ideas for me, types of content you favor? Do you like commenting here as the easiest way to enter a giveaway, or would you prefer I open it up to Twitter, Facebook, and/or Instagram with a hashtag, like last year? How often do you want to see new posts? (My standard has been once a week for the month of October, but people read blogs much less than they used to.) I want all of your brains thoughts!

Okay, on to the things that have come out since I last posted, in case you missed them:

My creepy gross horror story “Cilantro” is out now in the anthology Fire: Demons, Dragons and Djinn by Tyche Books! You can order this in ebook or paperback now! It’s full of great fire-themed tales, but be warned that mine in this one is not for the faint of heart (or stomach). It is, however, wickedly fun, and horror lovers shouldn’t miss it.

And last but not least, my latest blogs elsewhere. Click the image to visit the post:

 
 

Thank you guys for your shared excitement, and thanks in advance for any input you have on my October blog series!

Share this:
Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail
Posted in Updates & Announcements | Leave a comment